


Give Me One Room To Come Home To

by vaguelynormal



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ, JYJ (Band)
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 11:28:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14715155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaguelynormal/pseuds/vaguelynormal
Summary: Changmin’s looking for a home.





	Give Me One Room To Come Home To

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT: This is actually a friend from vaguelynormal posting these. He let me use his ao3 account to transfer his fics from other pages to here, so they wouldnt get lost, since i couldnt convince him to do it himself lol. So yeah! 
> 
> Originally created on October 27 of 2011

The train rattles to a stop and Changmin pulls Yoochun closer to him as the crowd rushes in. The summer is ending and their carriage fills with teenagers in school uniforms and disgruntled businessmen. Yoochun pushes closer, avoiding contact with the haggle of schoolgirls with their fake talons and rolled up waistbands of their skirts to make them shorter. Changmin steadies him against the flow as the train starts moving again, one hand gripping the rail above him. He tries to ignore the jealousy itches under his collar when he hears talk of lessons and complaints about teachers. Changmin pulls Yoochun’s head to rest against his chest, hoping to block out the thoughtless chatter of the students with the steady pound of his heart. Yoochun left school much earlier than Changmin.

They file out the train at the next stop. Clothes thin and tattered but no one notices in the crowd. The soles of Yoochun’s sneakers open and close with each step as though conversing with each other and Changmin tries not to let himself get distracted from where they’re going. They curve around the station, keeping with the flow of footsteps and ducking their heads as they pass the guards. The next train is in fifteen minutes and Changmin knows they’re running out of time to change platforms without drawing attention. Calloused fingers thread with Yoochun’s bony hands as Changmin pulls them through the crowd, squeezing into gaps and vanishing before anyone can voice their aggression over the shove and dig of elbow. Changmin and Yoochun are well versed in the art of disappearing and they fade quickly amongst the scattering passengers.

 

Later, when they’re tucked in the shadowy alcove the station attendants have yet to discover, Yoochun recites every lyric he knows, whispering songs into the small space. He lies on his back and Changmin tries to fold his legs out of view, busying himself with their worldly possessions- all crammed into one worn backpack. It’s still warm outside, the lingering edge of summer keeping the night air reasonably comfortable but Changmin misses the security of sleeping indoors and they’re going to have to find shelter for the winter months soon enough. Changmin thinks they’re going to need a better blanket because it’s fucking cold outside in winter.

 

Yoochun has a habit of disappearing on Changmin. It’s not that Changmin doesn’t know where he goes, but it’s a path he won’t follow. He waits anxiously outside the church, wishing he could afford a cigarette to curb any suspicious glances he’s shot as he leans against the heavy stone, looking out at the night sky. Changmin lets out a sigh, sliding down the wall to sit on the marble steps, near the large oak. The cold wind nips at his skin and he inwardly curses the end of summer. He closes his eyes, trying to relax when he knows what Yoochun’s doing inside the church- knows how much of his body the boy is willing to trade into the hands of men who should know better. They go to church every few weeks and Yoochun receives his body and blood of Christ and coy smiles from the clergymen, whilst Changmin stares at the bleeding motifs of Christ on the ceiling. Changmin has no moral qualms with stealing from the collection plate, taking back from the men who all too easily steal from Yoochun. Yoochun still has his faith; Changmin only has Yoochun.

 

Changmin likes watching Yoochun sleep. Tracing the ebony lashes that dust the gentle curve of his cheeks- still a little round with youth. Yoochun’s mouth is like a red stain, a bold smudge against the pale skin and Changmin’s heart clenches in his chest, swelling with desire. He shakes Yoochun awake a little rougher than intended, gathering their things to move them on before the police do. He holds Yoochun’s hand as they walk through the park, dew seeping into the worn canvas of their shoes and Changmin tries to remember the last time they ate. Coins clink teasingly in his pockets as they walk past a supermarket, Yoochun taking a seat of the bench outside, blinking sleepily. Changmin’s hand ruffles the thick mop of black hair without realising and he ducks quickly into the store, blushing lightly. There’s a bakery in the back of the store and Changmin salivates at the smell of fresh bread, distracting himself from the reality of the hardening loaf in his hand with the discount stickers. He pockets some paracetamol for Yoochun as he wanders through the aisles, picking up items and placing them back on the shelves. It’s too early for any staff to waste time dogging him and Changmin slips a squeezable bottle of honey into the waistband of his jeans, tugging his jacket to cover the bulge. He pays for the bread and water and considers that violent sex offenders have their food paid for by taxpayers in prison but he and Yoochun have to beg for it. Changmin grits his teeth as the cashier looks him up and down before handing over his receipt.

Back in the park, Yoochun digs small white teeth into the bread, lips smacking noisily over the honey and Changmin smiles. The sky is a muted blue, the pale glow of the moon lingering as dawn eases into life. A few joggers flitter along the paths but they pay them no mind, Changmin taking inventory on their possessions. He frowns at the handful of newspaper pages crumpled in the bottom of the bag, smoothing them out for Yoochun who grabs them with sticky hands to read the comics. Changmin rolls his eyes, discretely throwing away a few pebbles, bottle caps and feathers that Yoochun has developed a bad habit of collecting. As the sun dries out the grass he flops down onto the lawn, head in Yoochun’s lap to finally rest for a few hours. They look like students lazing on the lawn, skipping class to sleep and picnic and Changmin almost snorts at the irony. He left school to follow Yoochun two years ago and Yoochun’s been on the streets a lot longer. When Yoochun runs fingers through his hair he thinks it’s all worth it.

 

Changmin scours the city to find place to sleep- a place of their own. Some nights Yoochun can’t sleep for the noise and the fear that crawls up his spine and if Yoochun can’t sleep, Changmin can’t either. He checks the suburbs too and there are small parks that are far too dark to find any comfort in and too many people to ask questions. In the city, street kids are easy to ignore if they’re not begging for money, but the city is too dangerous, Changmin slinking through a darkened alley at night, only to hear the pained cries of a whore. He thinks about stopping to help, but then Yunho’s always liked the money he makes from the rougher tricks- he’s got a habit to feed and Changmin can’t blame him for seeking to alter reality. In the city, night crawls in fast, filth barely disguised by the lack of light and Changmin always knows where to find Yoochun. Yoochun’s smile always feels a lot like home.

 

There’s a shell of a house constructed on the outskirts of the city. On a new block that’s free of anything else it sits, waiting and Changmin eyes the half completed roof, the scaffolding and the temporary wire fence that’s surrounding it. It’s easy enough to scale the fence, clinging to the holes in the wire before he swings himself over, landing in a neat pile of dirt. It’s close to dusk and there are no workmen around but Changmin’s been watching for days and they rarely show up. The window openings are secured with heavy plastic but it’s easy enough to pull down and Changmin climbs in. His shoes scuff over the dusty concrete floor and there are a few tools lying around but not much else. It’s in the backroom that Changmin meets Jaejoong for the first time and gets the shock of his life.

‘That’s not very subtle you know,’ A dark haired boy says from the windowsill, plastic pushed aside. ‘The trick is to make it look like you were never here- replace the plastic.’

Changmin freezes in the doorway, watching as the boy lights a cigarette, arm hanging out the window and there’s a swag unrolled on the floor. He’s pale and has bad skin in the way that suggests he’s fixing but Changmin can still tell he’s rather effeminate and pretty for a boy. Changmin tries to look less frightened than he feels, stretching up to touch the doorframe. ‘You been here long?’ He almost sighs. Changmin won’t take someone else’s territory.

‘A week or so,’ The boy stands, stubbing out the half-smoked cigarette and storing it in a small tin. ‘What’s your name?’ He asks.

 

Changmin still has no idea what possessed him to answer, or to tell Jaejoong about Yoochun and leaving school to protect the boy he used to find sleeping on his train. He never had much of a family, but he had brains and instinct and something about Jaejoong fit well with Changmin, both of them snarling and biting back sharp words, frustrated in a way Yoochun never seems to be and they’re both jealous of Yoochun’s adaptability. Jaejoong got along a little too well with Yoochun too and though it grated on Changmin’s nerves at times, he tolerated it to hear Yoochun giggle at night, sleeping between them in Jaejoong’s swag inside the unfinished house.

 

Jaejoong had friends in low places and enough people who owed him favours all over town to get by. He had a habit of wasting his little money on clothes instead of food and a worse habit of getting into trouble. Jaejoong had a penchant for sadism and after a couple of times walking in on the boy with Yunho, burning cigarette dangerously close to naked skin, he and Yoochun knew when to find different places to sleep. Two months after meeting Jaejoong and Changmin had become well enough acquainted with the boy to know when to run. Jaejoong had a certain flair for pick pocketing and explosives that Changmin had come to admire and an even better talent for slipping away from the law but he had a generous heart and allowed the two of them to share his newfound home.

 

Changmin has always been bitter and cynical, even as a young child growing up with alcoholic parents who had heavy hands, so when construction resumes on the house and they’re forced to leave for good, something inside Changmin snaps, unleashing a raw aggression that seeps from his pores, a permanent scowl on his face. Autumn is in full swing, trees bare and leaves covering the asphalt, wet with newly fallen rain. It’s Changmin’s least favourite time of year because winter is just around the corner and with it the bitter cold and his birthday but Yoochun doesn’t seem to mind, enjoying the way leaves crunch under his feet. To Changmin, spending another four months trying to hold off hypothermia was not something to look forward to but Yoochun pulls him by the hand and he can forget everything for a while, lost in the warmth of skin on skin.

They hold hands as they trek through the city, avoiding puddles littered with cigarette butts. It’s obvious from the clothes they wear and things they carry that they belong there amongst the filth and Changmin thinks it’s a shame because Yoochun still shines so bright on good days. Other homeless men yell at them as they curve back into the city with their heavy bags, the smell of urine, alcohol and filth that wafts from the men, permeating his senses, is enough to make Changmin sick and he wonders what they did in a past life to deserve to live like this. Changmin knows most of the men living on the streets are veterans, driven out of their minds by the violence of war and he wonders if it’s karma. Changmin’s not sure he believes in karma either- it sounds a little too much like bullshit when you’re consistently dealt the crappy hand to play with.

Jaejoong is high on a little dope and the afterglow of sex. Yunho limping beside him as he whistles happily, repeatedly stopping to touch his lips, enjoying the way they feel foreign on his own face. Yoochun doesn’t seem to mind but stays close to Changmin’s side- he stands a better chance of being let into the shelter if he’s with someone sober and that’s as good a reason as any to use somebody in this town. Yunho leaves them to clamber into one of his regular’s cars, a shitty little thing and part of Changmin wonders if they’ll see him again- each night for him is a little more dangerous. Mentally, he weighs up the odds of a john killing him or Yunho overdosing. Sadly, Yunho rarely earns enough money to buy much of a fix. Changmin scuffs his shoes as they’re told the shelter is already full and they’re turning away people at the door. Changmin can’t stand the way they stare at him pityingly as he and Yoochun walk back into the night, nails digging into his palms.

 

Jaejoong steals a car, but surprisingly Yoochun is the one who knows how to drive it. Changmin starts saving money to buy enough fuel to drive them to the next town but he knows it will never be enough. He needs a job and is underqualified, undereducated and he’ll never fully understand why that’s so important. Changmin borrows Jaejoong’s clothes anyway and turns up for job interviews with résumés he spent his last five dollars printing. The paper looks annoyingly sparse- he has no address, no experience or academic achievements and his listed phone number is Yunho’s mobile that he uses for clients. Changmin knows he’s not going to get a chance and for the first time, instead of letting Yoochun comfort him, he gets drunk with Jaejoong, smoking until his head feels clouded and he can pretend his tears are from the acrid smoke.

It’s that night the idea begins forming; reckless and riding on the back of his bitter resentment. Yoochun’s at the church, but Changmin doesn’t think he could get it up anyway as he watches Jaejoong blow up tin cans from where the car is parked out in the middle of a field. Changmin is mesmerised by the glow of flames against the night sky, Jaejoong loping from can to can, a flick of his lighter and a dash back to the car in time to turn and watch them explode. There’s a grin on his face, such blatant happiness and Changmin is jealous of Jaejoong’s satisfaction. He wants to be happy, he wants to be rich and to spread Yoochun out on clean sheets instead of cheap nylon blankets that smell of stale sweat. Changmin wants food, enormous amounts of hot food – soups, potatoes and roasted, succulent meats- and he wants to eat until he puts on weight, safe with the knowledge he can afford to buy new clothes. Jaejoong laughs beside him and Changmin realises he’s said all this aloud but his cheeks flush with anger not shame.

‘Why shouldn’t we have what we want?’ Changmin turns to Jaejoong. ‘The poor hold the ladder for the rich but we’re not even a blip on the radar. No one gives a fuck about us, we’re not even an accurate statistic.’ Changmin slams his fist into the side of the car and he knows when Jaejoong comes down from his high, he’ll pay for it. ‘Assholes just get richer and richer and then give tiny amounts to charity to make themselves feel less guilty about the fact that they wipe their ass with the minimum wage,’ Changmin growls, voice getting louder. ‘I’m fucking sick of it! Why can’t we live like that? I want a home, Jaejoong. I want somewhere to come back to everyday and know that Yoochun is safe with me- that I can protect him. What’s to stop us from taking what we want?’

Jaejoong’s smirk fades and he pulls Changmin back to the car, stopping him from pacing with an arm around his shoulder. ‘Absolutely nothing, my friend,’ Jaejoong drawls, his eyes dark with insinuation. 

Changmin pauses, turning to look Jaejoong in the eye, ‘What have we got to lose?’

Jaejoong looks up at the stars for a long moment. ‘Freedom?’ He asks, spreading his arms.

‘As if we have that now,’ Changmin scoffs, leaning against the car heavily. ‘I only have one thing I want more than anything else and I’m willing to risk it.’

Jaejoong hums, joining Changmin against the car, voice soft and lilting. ‘Yoochun?’

Changmin gives a small nod of his head. ‘We can’t go on like this. Being born into poverty- living like this, dying like this. Are you okay with that?’

‘What do you suggest we do about it?’ Jaejoong asks, thumbnail flicking the lid on his lighter. He’s solemn, waiting for Changmin’s suggestion.

‘We’re going to need a gun.’

 

The first time they hold up a store, it’s nothing like Changmin imagined it to be. They’re wearing as much black as Jaejoong owns and cheap masks of Disney princesses. His hands shake and despite his anger, guilt seeps through at the cashier’s horrified expression- someone’s life is changing in this moment and it’s not just his. Jaejoong gave him a quick lesson on how to shoot but he has terrible aim and is not sure he wants to either. It’s hardly glamorous or smooth and Changmin thinks he might wet himself as they run from the convenience store. The cash is in Jaejoong’s hands and Changmin thinks that might be a mistake for the first hundred metres when Jaejoong starts hurdling fences into people’s backyards. Changmin sprints after him as fast as he can, feet loud over the bitumen and he swears he can hear police sirens in the background. 

His lungs feel like they’re about to explode, running down the road alongside Jaejoong, when Jaejoong’s head suddenly stops popping up over the tops of fences. Changmin skids to a stop, heaving himself over the wooden fence and flopping heavily onto the grass. It hurts and he’s panting loudly, gun digging into his back and all he can think is that he’s glad the safety is still on.

The yard is full of children’s toys and there, in the corner of the garden sits a little plastic cubby house, Jaejoong panting beside it. He looks garish next to the bright plastic house, princess mask in hand and Changmin eyes the bag dumped on the ground between them. Changmin has no intention of screwing Jaejoong over but he can’t say the same for the other boy and edges towards the bag, pulling off his mask slowly. Jaejoong is bent in half, gasping for air and his black locks stick to his face with sweat, he squints up at Changmin and grins. All tension eases out of Changmin’s body and he grins back, stifling a laugh as they begin to strip out of their clothes. 

They might look odd in their change of clothes- t-shirts brightly coloured but far too thin for the autumn chill but Changmin’s certain they no longer fit the description. They split the money, there’s not much but they tuck it into pockets, smiling in satisfaction none the less and take separate paths down the road.

 

Changmin takes Yoochun to a cheap hostel for the night and for the first time since they’ve been together, they make love on an actual bed. He pushes in slow, admiring the way Yoochun arches, a soft gurgle of incoherent pleasure trapped in his throat. A year into their relationship and Changmin still finds the sex with Yoochun amazing. They fumble together on the bed, laughing at themselves and the way their limbs refuse to fit in the small spaces. Yoochun is gorgeously blinding, body bent and pale skin flushed so hot under Changmin’s greedy palms. They fuck until touching seems to hurt, overwhelmed by pleasure and nerves frayed, panting in exhaustion until Changmin recedes their pause on contact and drapes himself over Yoochun’s body to sleep.

A second night at the hostel and Yoochun doesn’t stop smiling, excited about showering and washing his clothes. He chatters nonsensically and Changmin remembers why he was drawn to Yoochun that first time he met him on a train home from school. A hint of pity and a need to protect still linger but Yoochun has always been so much stronger than his delicate appearance- so much stronger than Changmin. Yoochun seems so content with the little things whilst Changmin wishes he could offer so much more. He’s still learning things he ought to know by now.

They eat scrambled eggs and toast at the hostel in the morning surrounded by tourists but in their own little world and later when the walk through the park, Changmin quietly explains his plans. To his surprise Yoochun just nods, carefully considering his words and Changmin waits for the criticism to come.

‘It would be better if I drove,’ Yoochun eventually says. ‘You’d get away faster and then we could ditch the car and pick up a new one.’

Changmin stares in shock at Yoochun before he breaks out into a grin, arm wrapping around Yoochun’s shoulders. ‘I think we have a plan.’

 

Their next hit is in another town, where they don’t stay long enough for anyone to know their faces but just enough to pull surveillance. It’s still not enough money, but their team increases- twins joining their plans and Changmin’s thankful for the strength the eldest provides, managing to look threatening by sheer height and brawn. They’re just as desperate as Yoochun, Jaejoong and Changmin are and with the added help, Jaejoong and Changmin allow their schemes to grow wilder. 

When they pull off their first bank hit a year later in a sleepy little town, summer blurring away with a cold chill, Changmin knows they’re going to be fine. Cutting through dirt roads and whipping past farmland, the five of them grin like idiots as they split into separate cars. Yoochun kisses Changmin in the backseat whilst Jaejoong drives them in the direction of their new home and Changmin’s never been as happy as he is to see the end of summer, knowing he’ll be warm in the winter with Yoochun by his side.


End file.
